The Shadow of My Wings
by TerraZeal
Summary: Horde and Alliance come together at the behest of Calen, the red dragon, and his mother Alexstrasza, to defeat Deathwing. Deathwing fights the mind of Neltharion for control. T for violence.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:** My Deathwing fic. Though it doesn't focus on Deathwing at the start, not for the most part. Also involves Llirra, Wanhope, and Sarantha making an alliance with one of the Life Queen's children in attempt to defeat the Betrayer forever while trying not to kill each other at the same time. Drama/Humor most of the time. Will remain T._

_The Shadow of My Wings_

_Ch 1._

_**The sun has set on this mortal world, fools. Make peace with your end, for the Hour of Twilight falls! **_

_**Life is weak! Mortal! Fleeting! Fragile! Death is final, death is eternal, death... is my realm. Look upon me, and you see death incarnate!**_

_**Peace...There. CAN. BE. NO. PEACE! Not when the whole of Azeroth is ripped asunder! The Alliance and Horde can only CLING to hope!**_

_**Pain... Agony... My hatred burns through the cavernous deeps. The world heaves with my torment. Its wretched kingdoms quake beneath my rage... But at last... The whole of Azeroth will break... ...And all will burn beneath the shadow of my wings...**_

Alextrasza let out a cry of rage and fear. Deathwing's words burned in her ears. She shot up, out of her healing slumber at last. The Betrayer...the one who had betrayed HER, them...his own siblings...for power. His words stung her ears, leaving her shivering. Her son, her beloved son, who had saved her life in her confrontation with the Destroyer, ran quickly to her side and looked at her with some concern.

"Mother! Are you well? I heard you cry out! Korialstrasz is almost sick with fear and worry for you, Mother!" Alexstrasza surveyed her surroundings. Wyrmrest...the temple. Of course she would be there. It was the holy site where all dragons went, to live, to die...to heal. Her body was as healed as it was going to be, but her soul...her soul would never recover from her former brother's words. She had to be the one to end it. She knew it in her soul. Life against Death...it was only right, only natural. But she had failed, in the end. Failed. Allowed the Destroyer to continue his freedom. _All shall burn_...Alexstrasza shuddered. No. She would not allow that. As many before her had done, she would seek aid among the mortal races of Azeroth. They had done things no others could do. They were different from the dragons, even the red dragons, the protectors of Life and all things living. An orc shaman came to mind. Thrall. Even now, he was the only thing keeping this world from being ripped apart like Draenor had been. His power was...amazing. Beyond anything even the Queen of Life had seen. Healing Azeroth, where her brother had torn it asunder when he broke from his prison, with the aid of the Twilight's Hammer and their breaking of the seals that kept him down there, in the fire and burning hole he had been trapped in. The torture...the pain her brother must have been in.

Even though his evil was irredeemable, she still loved him. Perhaps that was her weakness. She couldn't, in cold blood, kill her brother. Not even in a battle to the death. She knew he had to die, as her brother Malygos had before her. Malygos had sought to obliterate the mortal races as well. Again, the Mother had to step in and stop him. Again and again and again...how many? How many siblings and children would she have to bury before it was all over? She realized tears were streaming down her face and she had not answered Caelestrasz, who was hovering over her with a look of increased fear. Likely for her sanity. She stood, still in her elven guise, and embraced her son. Calen had saved her life and the life of the paladin, priest, and hunter that had fought beside them.

"I'm alright, Cal. I just...I can't do this. He defeated me. I cannot kill my brother. That is my weakness, Cal. He is my brother. My closest of brothers. Or was. My heart cannot deal the killing blow. Thats why I lost. Why I almost failed you, and the mortals that were aiding us. I am weak, Cal. Not in body, but in soul. I don't have the will it takes to slay the most beloved of my brothers."

Cal looked distressed. "What are you talking about, Mother? If anyone can destroy the Destroyer, it is you. No other has the power! Nozdormu is too wrapped up in time travel, Ysera too caught up in the Dream, Kalec is new to being an Aspect! Who do you think will defeat the Dark One if not you, Mother?"

"Cal...the mortals. The mortals we fought alongside. Look to the Maelstrom. Look at the mortal who, single-handedly, is holding the world together. The mortals are capable of things we are not. It is THEY who are the Titans greatest creations. For so long we thought we were supposed to protect Azeroth. For so long, we thought the curse the Old Gods placed on the vyrkul, the tol'vir, and the other races of Azeroth was a curse. It wasn't a curse. If the Old Gods could go back in time, they would never have given the blessing of Flesh to them. Without being mortal, they could not have accomplished all the things they have in so short a time span. They are our only hope, Cal." She leaned into her son, hugging the red dragon close to her. Cal was in elf form as well, his blonde hair and blue eyes showing that he too, like his mother, had taken on a high elf form.

She pulled away. "Find them, Cal. The paladin, priest, and hunter."

Cal looked a little confused. "Why, Mother? Why do you want them? Should I not instead go to the Maelstrom, to Thrall, the...the Earthbinder?" He hesitated a bit on the last. He'd heard his mother call Thrall Earthbinder, but he wasn't sure what that meant, even now. Was Thrall meant to be the next Aspect of Earth? Was that why Mother hadn't told him to find Thrall? Did she not wish to risk his death?

"I want those three. They fought alongside us. They were courageous. Brave. Even though two were horde and one alliance, they fought together. They put aside differences in the face of certain death. Mortals are capable of so much more they we are. I've told you this." It was a mild rebuke, but still a rebuke, and Cal flinched slightly for questioning the Mother of All Life. He bowed to her.

"Very well, Mother. You know what is best. I will go to the mortals. Mother...do you really believe they can defeat Deathwing?"

Alexstrasza hung her head in sadness. "I must believe it. If not, Deathwing was right. All shall burn...the end of Azeroth will be upon us. We will have failed in protecting them. This world and all life. I will cease to be the Life-binder, for there will no longer be life within this world." She was crying again. She lay down on the soft mat in the holy Wyrmrest Temple and stared at the ceiling. It depicted her kind, saving people, hunting monsters, going head to head with minions of the Old Gods. Neltharion fighting beside her, loving her as she loved him. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears sliding down her cheeks. Neltharion...what he was known as before he became Deathwing and ceased to be her brother in mind, if not in body. But never in soul. In her soul, and perhaps even his own, they still loved each other, and so they could not kill each other. Perhaps...perhaps that was why Deathwing hadn't been able to kill her. Perhaps Neltharion was still there, somewhere, deep in his soul, and knew her. Knew his most beloved sister.

Cal turned from Alex, letting her cry herself to sleep. There was nothing more for him here. She had given him a mission, and he wouldn't let his mother down.

Air rushed through the metal plates that made up his skin as he flew over Azeroth, surveying the damage with an inordinate amount of glee. The world was burning, breaking, just as he had hoped. His battle with his sister had weakened him some, but not near enough to prevent him from continuing his flight across the whole of Azeroth. Burning and torching anything in his path. It did puzzle him a bit when some of the mortals actually ran TO the fire instead of AWAY from it, but it mattered not. All that mattered...was burning...destroying...killing...soothing the fiery anger and hate his imprisonment brought about. So some of the mortals were dumb enough to WANT to get burned to death in his fiery breath. It only made his job easier. Even though some of the mortals shouted with glee to see him when he flew over an area. The most recent was Uldum. Several night elves and tauren had immediately rushed into the path of his flames. Oh well. It was their death, and he was the Aspect of Death, so it brought him a good deal of joy to bring such death to willing victims. At first it had puzzled him, but then he had decided they were merely ending their torment early. Being burned alive wasn't exactly a clean death, but who was he to judge? He himself had been burned alive for thousands of years beneath the earth, in a fiery pit of destruction and pain. His hatred of the mortal races who imprisoned him there only increasing with each fiery decade.

Now THEY would feel the fires of doom. Even now, in the ancient realm of Hyjal, his servant, or at least servant for now, Ragnaros, was starting his plan to turn the World Tree to ashes. Not even his dear sister would see this coming. Not until it was too late. Nor would his other sister...the lovely little Ysera, the pathetic Dreamer. Her druids would burn. Her tree would BURN! None would escape the Hour of Twilight. His tail twitched slightly in irritation at the thought of Twilight. It brought about annoying, displeasing thoughts of the Twilight Dragons. Sintharia's last brood. They were supposed to be more powerful than any other dragonflight, and yet mortals defeated them regularly and with ease. Sintharia had been a disappointment. He was almost glad to be rid of her. Not to mention, they kind of...sparkled. That just wasn't natural, even for a Twilight Dragon. No, he did not like them at all. They belonged elsewhere, and perhaps with Sintharia's death, no more would be born. His dear son, Nefarion, had got it right. Chromatic dragons were powerful. They took all that was good about each flight and twisted it...twisted it to be useful to him. Yes...Nefarion was loyal to his father, even in death.

Pain shot through the Dark One. He growled in annoyance. The metal plates had been becoming-loosened-after his fight with Alex. Without the plates, his body would fall apart. It would no longer be able to host the great power within him. Each time one loosened a little more, more pain, more agony, assaulted him.

Deathwing dropped to the ground in Tanaris, out of sight of anyone or anything else. He wouldn't dare be caught in this moment of weakness. Gasping from the pain, he assumed his human form, resting his head against the sandy rocks behind him. Even in his human form, he wasn't free of the pain. But...it was lessened some. Metal plates still engulfed almost the entirety of his body. His face was free of them for some reason. He did not question good fortune. He lay panting against the rocks, their deaths would be far more painful than this. When he had control over all Azeroth, he would have the plates reforged. Then there would be no more pain. No more suffering. For him, at least. Deathwing grinned, a smile full of sharp, serrated teeth, even in human form. Yes. All of Azeroth would fall under the shadow of his wings.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: **Cal finds Llirra and Sarantha, but they're not exactly what he expects from supposed champions of Azeroth. Hinted blood elf/tauren romance. As for the last chapter, yes, even Deathwing hates Twilight, if you caught the minor reference. Next chapter will be mostly humorous involving Sara and Llirra meeting Dorian and trying not to kill him._

_The Shadow of My Wings_

_Ch 2._

Llirra, blood knight of Silvermoon, lay on the peaceful beach next to Silvermoon City, her orc best friend, Sarantha, also laying nearby. Both were finally enjoying a moments peace after their last battle, against the God of Death himself. Llirra had tried to forget the Death God's words, but still, when she was alone, they haunted her. She had confided in Sarantha, who had merely brushed it off, saying that Yogg-Saron had only been trying to put them off of killing him with his words. Llirra wasn't so sure. She believed him, in some ways. She WOULD die before all her friends. She WOULD be alone in the end. The elf shook her head violently, shaking sand into Sarantha's face. The orc grunted slightly and sat up.

"Eh? What's with the sand shower, Llirri? Something wrong? There are no monsters here, I would have detected it." Sara tapped her head and then gestured to Raoden, a metallic gem cat she'd gotten from some fiery lands in Hyjal. The cat had taken well to the warm beaches of Silvermoon, far away from the harsh flames of his homeland. Sarantha was referring to her own tracking and detection abilities, as well as Raoden's. Neither she nor her pet would allow any monster, human, elemental, or beast, go untracked.

Llirra sighed. "Nothing, Sara. Its nothing. I was just..thinking. About...uhm..Roulf. You know, the tauren druid. The one that keeps wanting me to have a dinner with him. I mean, you'd think he wouldn't be worrying about that now, right? All druids were called to Hyjal to aid Ysera in stabilizing the World Tree or something. Roulf explained it, but I forgot and its none of my concern, really."

Sara shook her head. "Thats where you're wrong, Llirr. I've been there. To the...the Firelands. Thats where Raoden came from." She gestured to the gemmed cat, who was asleep at her side. Some great tracking cat. "Loki too. I think he was happy to get out of the Firelands. Thats no place for spiders." Sara grinned, waving Raoden, who growled a little in irritation at being woken from his nap, away. She whistled, calling a brilliant green spider, seemingly painted here and there with jet black markings, to her side. Flames seemed to spark and glow from beneath the beautiful spider's very skin. "Beauty, isn't he? Before I got to him, he sure tried his best to kill me! I think it took a week to scrub out the poison. He apologizes now, don't you boy?" She vigorously rubbed the spider's back. It did not respond in any manner whatsoever. "Anyway, we're not talking about my pets. Something big is going down again, Llirr. REALLY big. I know right now you think its just a druid problem. But its not. Maybe they can handle the Firelands for now, but not alone, not forever."

Llirra sighed. No more peace, then. One battle after another. More monster killing. More going up against gods and elemental lords. She didn't want any part of it. Former hero of the Horde or not. Her part in vanquishing Yogg-Saron was well known, as was Sarantha's. While Llirra received no accolades from the Warchief like Sarantha did (her being an orc, Garrosh's favored race), Llirra still received a great deal of claps and cheers in her home city of Silvermoon, and even amongst the Forsaken in Undercity. She supposed it was expected, since Undercity was led by a former Sin'dorei. She knew who and what caused the world to shatter as it had, but knew she had no chance of going up against the ASPECT of Death, not even with twenty-four of her guildmates. An Aspect was far more powerful than Yogg-Saron had been. Yogg-Saron had not even been fully unleashed, after all. Deathwing was definitely off of whatever leash he'd been on. He had just the other day burned Llirra's favorite orchard in Eversong. The small battle she had fought against him in the Twilight Highlands with the help of Alexstrasza had took all the fight out of her. She didn't want to fight Deathwing again, nor even see his ugly mug once more. He killed all, burned all...

Still, an Aspect was meant to kill an Aspect. A mortal couldn't stand a chance. Llirra's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of what she thought was a mage portalling in nearby. Sarantha and her spider did not even move a muscle. Great tracking team, really...pathetic hunter she was, sometimes. Llirra sighed and stood up, turning to tell whatever bloodmage had ported out here to go away and leave them be. To her surprise, it wasn't any bloodmage she had seen before. In fact, he almost seemed to be...Llirra quickly prodded Sarantha awake and pointed at the high elf, the...the alliance asshole...that had decided to attack them while defenseless. Sarantha, also noticing the elf's blue eyes shot up like a dart and raised a hand to sic the spider on the elf, since neither one had weapons. Sarantha's pet could hopefully hold the mage off until they could get to their armor and weapons.

"WAIT! Don't attack! You don't know what I am! I'm not with them. I'm not alliance!" The elf raised his hands in a gesture to show he meant them no harm and that he had no weapons. However, he was a mage, and Llirra knew he NEEDED no weapons. Magic was his weapon. He could be naked and still wipe the floor with them. All mages could, except perhaps apprentices, those who where only starting their path to Dalaran.

"You expect us to believe that! Garrosh told us your kind were cowards. Run away then, alliance coward! Unless you want Loki to eat your brains for lunch!" Sarantha snarled at the elf, baring her tusks in what she hope was a threatening gesture, and telling the spider to be ready to attack. Though she did not look the slightest bit threatening in a red bikini. Unless the elf was terrified of half naked female orcs, which he did not seem to be, sadly. Nor did he seem at all perturbed by her pet.

"Please! Let me show you, then, if you won't listen to me!" The elf closed his eyes and seemed to...shimmer a bit, then well, GROW, to an immense size. Sarantha's jaw was gaping. Llirra reached over and helped her friend close her mouth. She turned to the...the dragon. "A red dragon...what do you want with us? I thought you guys were out there trying to stop Deathwing, not spying on orcs and blood elves in bikinis!" She put her hands on her hips and gave the dragon a death glare.

Cal's tail twitched in irritation. "I'm not spying on you. I wouldn't want to anyway. Mortals have never appealed to me in that...way. The Queen of Life seeks your aid, huntress, paladin. She asked for you personally. She is my mother. I couldn't deny her wishes."

"So we're not allowed even a moment's peace? None? You and your dragon business! Take it and stick it up your-!" Llirra's retort was muffled by Sarantha's large, green hand. Sarantha bowed to the red dragon. "Forgive my friend. The last battle...it just upset her a bit is all. We were just wanting some peace. Of course we'll come with you and help the Queen of Life fight Deathwing again. I mean, we did it before, right? And we almost had his ass!" Cal sighed. They had NOT almost had his ass, but who was he to question the orc? His mother had asked for her and her friend, so Caelestrasz had to go, but things weren't looking at all promising. _Dear Mother, if you can hear me at all, is there NO other way? Can we not get Thrall for this? I am not sure I can put up with these two! And I haven't even fetched the human they'll be working with. The orc shows no love for the alliance. Those two will not get along, Mother! _Cal sighed when Mother did not answer or give any type of sign whatsoever.

Cal snorted a bit, small flames licking the air in front of him. "Well then, if you agree, you'd best, uhm...put on something more...ah...fit for meeting with the Queen of Life." Cal gave a slight dragon-cough, careful not to torch something in the process, and turned his head as the two women dressed. Their armor was laying nearby, apparently even while at rest they did not trust the world. That almost made Cal sad. What type of world did they live in, where no one could even sunbathe without armor nearby?

Once dressed, Llirra hissed to Sarantha. "I can't believe you told this great big bag o' dicks that we would work for him! You didn't even ask me! You're supposed to be my best friend." She gave the orc a small whack on the head. The blow barely registered, since orcs have incredibly think skin and an even thicker skull. Sarantha just shrugged. "Llirri, its better than sitting here and WAITING for the whole world to go to hell, isn't? We might as well fight it if we can, right? As long as the 'bag o dicks' as you called him, is smart enough to go to the Horde instead of the Alliance, then we can trust Mister Dragonboy."

Cal was trying very hard not to overhear them, but with his super dragon senses, this was impossible. He protested at being called bag o' dicks and Dragonboy, but didn't let his irritation show. He was more worried about what the orc had said about the Alliance. She would be in for a surprise when she saw their traveling companion, wouldn't she? That is, IF the priest agreed to come. Cal wasn't even sure he would. He had seemed rather apathetic about the whole thing, just doing what he had to do and leaving, going back to Stormwind, according to Cal's Mother, and simply sitting there or lounging around doing jack. That didn't speak of much promise in such a being, but his Mother had made it QUITE clear that she would have no one else, so it was left to Cal to convince this priest to give up his apathy for a shot at saving a world already half gone to hell. Once the females were dressed, Cal gave a loud snort to catch their attention and break up their bickering. He did not try to avoid flaming anything this time, nearly singing the blood elf's eyebrow's.

"Come then, mortals. Climb aboard Dragonboy Express." He snort-laughed. "We head next for Stormwind. Time to meet your fellow companion in this endeavour." Cal laughed again at the expression on the orc's face. It was priceless.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note: **Dorian meets Sara/Llirra and Cal has to stop their fighting. VERY slight dragon/worgen romance hinted at. You don't have to read Fallen Hero to understand Wanhope's PoV, but it helps and explains a lot. I interpret Deathwing as being both Deathwing and Neltharion, but Deathwing keeps the Neltharion part of his mind separate from the Deathwing part. In a way, Neltharion WANTS to redeem himself, but Deathwing is too powerful and keeps him on a tight leash, just so people understand that Deathwing does not have multiple personality disorder. Think of it as Deathwing possessing Neltharion, not Neltharion as having been corrupted. I guess you could say its AU. Nel/Al's interaction and love is NOT incest. It is merely an extremely old and powerful sibling bond, so don't interpret it as incest._

_Shadow of My Wings_

_Ch 3._

After much arguing and almost getting burned to death by the dragon's angry snorts, Llirra and Sarantha sullenly agreed to ride to Stormwind with him, but did not yet agree to work with 'an alliance coward' even when he told them it was the priest they fought with against Deathwing the first time. Sarantha had said he was a coward because he refused to fight, and instead stood in the back and healed. She claimed she had no need of an alliance pig's healing and could do it on her own or with Llirra healing, even though she was protection and preferred to be on the front lines, drawing her enemies to her instead of in the back waving her hands and glowing like a squishy mage or priest. Cal sighed. At least they had agreed to come...that was something.

In Stormwind, Dorian aka Wanhope, sat in the corner of the grassy area near the lake where the portals to all the realms unearthed by the Cataclysm were, grooming his white drake, Zeridormi. She complained when he picked at a scale, though it was necessary to keep her brilliant white scales clean. She protested that she did not get as dirty as he claimed. "Zeri, you're white. White attracts dirt! Look at my robes! They're white. They were filthy before I found a mage to clean them with a few water spells."

Zeridormi snorted and gave him a look. _You use mages to clean your robes now? How not nice!_ She flipped her tail up at him and dove in the water. _I'll clean myself, thank you. Mage-abuser! _She wacked the water with her tail, soaking Wanhope. The priest sighed. Dragons. Why were they so snooty sometimes?

After going to Hyjal and beyond, and not finding a cure for his curse, he had given up and just went back to Stormwind, intending to live out the rest of his days in relative peace. It made him wonder just how many days he actually had...being turned into a worgen had seemed to reverse some of the aging process and he looked a lot younger than he had before the transformation. His hair and beard were completely free of grey, as they had not been before being afflicted with the curse. Were Worgen immortal or just very long lived? He knew King Greymane had to be in his late seventies, but he appeared no older than Wanhope himself, just a little greyer. Greymane also fought with strength and tenacity that no man of his age could hope to fight with. The worgen curse did indeed have some benefits. Even if he were immortal, or just long-lived now, it didn't matter to him. He had no mortal friends. His only friend was Zeri. She herself, being a dragon, was immortal. At least he would get to live out his unnaturally long life with her at his side.

_MASTER! Intruders!_ Zeri lept from the water, standing in front of Wanhope, puffing up her wings in an attempt to look more threatening. She sniffed the air. _I smell orc and blood elf! And...red dragon? __Master, look to the skies! _Zeri tilted her head up, using her tail to gesture for the priest to also look up. A huge red dragon was descending from the skies. He far dwarfed Zeri. Despite her small size, she still stood in front her best friend and master, ready to give her life if need be. She growled and puffed her wings a bit more. She possessed no breath weapon, so her claws and wings were her only defense.

Wanhope wasn't about to let his dear friend be hurt. Obviously, this had something to do with him. He recognized the red dragon as Caelestrasz, the one from the time he had fought Deathwing with two horde members. The scars on the dragon's side made him easily recognizable.

"Caelestrasz, what is the meaning of this? You bring horde to Stormwind? You risk their deaths and your own! King Varian...if he found out, I don't think anything could keep him from killing you, even though you are a dragon and a mage. You know his feelings toward the horde. Even two obvious weaklings like these." Wanhope sneered a bit.

It occurred to Cal that his priest was a bit of a snob. The dragon stopped hovering and landed. The orc and blood elf immediately dropped to the ground. The blood elf was holding her stomach and looked as she were about to vomit. The orc looked ready to murder the priest.

"Weakling, you call me? YOU are the weakling, alliance pig! You didn't even fight when we were face to face with Death itself! You just stood in the back and waved your hands around!"

"Filthy orc liar! I kept YOU from being Deathwing's lunch, both of you. The least you could do is thank me instead of insult me!"

"You want a fight, little human, you've got one!" The orc drew her bow and knocked it back, and fired.

Wanhope had no choice. He changed. Bones shifting and changing in the blink of an eye. The arrow barely nicked him, instead flying harmlessly through his thick fur. He growled at the orc and lunged, only to be knocked back by a small arcane blast spell.

"Stop this at once! I was sent by the Queen of All Life! She sent me for you three in particular! If I let you kill one another, she will not hesitate to punish me. Mother's punishment's are not kind, though she hates when she has to deal them out." A high elf mage, with brilliant blue eyes stood where the giant red dragon had been moments before. A soft hand steadied Wanhope as he assumed human form again, the arcane blast knocking a bit of the fight out of him. A beautiful woman with stark white hair and yellow-gold eyes stood next to him, steadying him. He blinked, stupefied. "Z-Zeri? Is that YOU? I've never seen your human form before. I never even knew you COULD become human!"

After all these years, his drake had finally decided to show her human form to him. He felt a bit betrayed. Zeri actually shook her head, denying this. "My love...I only now acquired the ability to become human. Perhaps it is because I am in the presence of one of the Life Mother's children. Her power extends further than any can know. Or perhaps it is simply because I am growing up." The white haired woman smiled at him. He was awestruck by her beauty. He couldn't believe this was the same being he rode around on for years. The woman reached over and slightly cuffed the bottom of his chin.

"I believe you're drooling a bit, master." She smiled as she said this, so she was obviously not offended or didn't understand that it was HER he was drooling over, not left over spittle from his almost-fight with the orc. Zeri turned to Cal.

"Son of the Life Queen...you honor us with your presence...but may I ask what you want with my master?"

Cal stroked Zeri's soft white hair, soothing her, but infuriating Wanhope. "Little one, I am here because Mother commands it. Your master has an important part to play. That is, IF he can control himself enough to work with these two. A paladin of the Light, Llirra of Silvermoon, and a huntress, Sarantha of Orgrimmar. They are indeed Horde, but you fought Deathwing together. Perhaps together, we can again fight him, only this time, defeat him. Will you come...Dorian of Stormwind?"

"My name isn't Dorian anymore. My name is Wanhope. But...if Zeri trusts you, then I guess I should as well. I would assume the next stop is Wyrmrest Temple? Certainly Alexstrasza doesn't expect us to just find Deathwing and vanquish him, if we even can."

If occurred to Cal once again that Dorian was a snob. If he had a tail in his elf form, it would have twitched in irritation. "Yes. The Life Queen insist upon an audience. Come. I will create a portal taking us directly to Wyrmrest. That way, you have less of a chance to try and kill the horde members."

Llirra was silenty mouthing thank you to the dragon. She had NOT taken well to dragonflight and still felt queasy. During her travels, she normally rode a smooth-flying windrider, not a bumpy, hugeass dragon. Sarantha had only faired slightly better, likely due to her interaction with, and acquisition of, a Netherwing dragon companion. The dragon usually kept to Shadowmoon, but would come when she called him. She still preferred to ride her own form of transportation, a goblin-made rocket, a two seater. She occasionally flew Llirra around in it when they traveled. Apparently they now had to put up with a werewolf along with an ornery red drake. This was not going well at all.

On the other side of the world, Deathwing was once again resting, attempting to assuage the pain of the loosening plates. He'd managed to torture a dwarf smith into tightening a few to lessen the pain, but had to execute the dwarf when he'd found out he had also been loosening plates here and there. Stupid little mortal...thought he wouldn't get caught. Deathwing was the Aspect of Death! No mortal could hide anything from him. He'd let the dwarf live until he had started to pretend to tighten the plates, only to loosen them further, not believing the Death Aspect would notice. How stupid these mortals thought dragons were. Beasts, some called his kind. They were the beasts. Soft, fleshy bodies, constantly bickering and fighting...unable to even come together in the face of death itself.

Deathwing snorted, letting a large jet of flame torch the trees in Desolace, the area he had found himself flying over. Surely his sister, beloved little Alexstrasza, was gathering a posse of good-will agents to try and kill him again. Deathwing certainly loved a good jest. Any mortals Alexa sent his way would simply be killed. She would have even more deaths on her pretty little head. Sure, she moaned and cried about the deaths she caused, but inside, he knew she reveled in it. For Life could not exist without Death, and if there were no Death, she wouldn't be the Life-binder, for their would be no life left on Azeroth. Yes, unknowingly, Alexa was making him more powerful with each adventurer she sent to their deaths. Deathwing noticed the temperature change, almost suddenly. He had been flying further and longer than he'd thought, caught up in his own thoughts.

Northrend.

Home to the vile Lich King, his stinking undead scourge, and...Wyrmrest and his sister. Deathwing would have smiled were dragons capable of it. He would pay her a visit. She would enjoy it, no matter how she protested and told him he was profaning holy ground. It was true that he could not harm her while she remained in the holy temple of Wyrmrest, but it wasn't her body he wished to harm, simply her mind.

Flying over Borean Tundra, terrifying a few gnomes and Taunka, but not wasting time on torching them, he made his way to Dragonblight. The vile scourge had profaned dragon holy ground. He briefly recalled his old identity and self as he flew over the holy land, being so desecrated as it was by the undead. Neltharion shook himself. _What have I become? Why have I done this? Alexstrasza is my most dear of sisters...I would never hurt her..._Deathwing swiftly pushed Neltharion to the back of his mind, not wishing his old self to intrude on his new goals. Neltharion, while still occasionally surfacing from time to time, was not powerful enough to overtake Deathwing. It was only this place that had given him a tiny moment's ability to break through Deathwing's mental walls.

The spires of Wyrmrest came into view. Blue and red dragons and drakes closed in on him as he approached, but did not show signs of attacking. Of course, they couldn't, as long as they remained within the spires of the temple. Deathwing touched down, assuming human form as he entered the walls of the temple. Agony assaulted his senses.

The holy ground of Wyrmrest did not want him here. It thought him profane, a vile dragon corrupted by darkness and not worthy of the Wyrmrest. Galakrond, that ancient wyrm that had been the progenitor of all dragons, perhaps it was his spirit that kept Wyrmrest a holy ground, even in the face of scourge invasion. Deathwing let a little of Neltharion seep through the walls he'd worked so hard to build. The pain subsided a bit as the temple seemed to recognize the Earth-Warder, not the Aspect of Death. Still, it remained as a slight throb, as if showing it did not fully trust that he was the Earth-Warder.

If only the temple knew the truth...of course, it WAS just a piece of metal and incapable of thinking on its own. It acted on a deeper level. A spiritual level that Neltharion had never understood, but apparently Alexstrasza had. She had attempted to explain it to him, but it had flown right over his head and he'd snorted at her and said she was full of it, basically. They had both laughed at that. Mental anguish now assaulted Neltharion.

He longed for the days of old, when he and his siblings had fought side by side, protecting the world the Titans had charged them with...but this monster inside him made sure he would never again fight at the side of his sister. Deathwing once again forcibly pushed Neltharion behind the walls a bit more, so that his thoughts would not affect Deathwing's amusement when he faced his sister.

The metal plates made loud, harsh clicking noises as Deathwing strode across the floor of the temple, toward his sister, who lay sleeping on a soft mat, attended by red drakes in high elf form who eyed him suspiciously, but didn't make a move to stop him, knowing that if he attempted violence within the temple he would be expelled by that ancient, unstoppable spiritual force that even the Aspect of Death stood no chance against. A dragon he recognized as Alexstrasza's latest fuck, Krasus, stepped into his path.

"What business do you have here, traitor? Leave my Queen be. She is exhausted in mind and body and does not need to see the likes of your ugly face." Careful not to be too violent, so as to awaken the temple's guardian spirit, he shoved Krasus aside and approached the Queen of Life. She was seemingly whispering in her sleep.

"Neltharion...Neltharion...come back to me. This isn't you..." She trailed off and opened her wide silver-gold eyes. They widened at the sight of Deathwing. She rolled over and shot up. "You! Begone from this holy place! I am surprised Galakrond even tolerates your presence. You should be writhing in agony."

Deathwing let a feral grin spread his face. Serrated teeth shocking even Alexstrasza. "My dear sister...I thought you would be happy to see your brother on this holy ground again. For if the great and powerful spirit of marble and metal allows me inside, surely I cannot be evil!" Alexstrasza narrowed her eyes at him. He did, indeed, have a point. How did he enter the temple without being punted out by the spiritual forces that guarded it?

Deathwing laughed at the confusion on his sister's face. "No, dearest, I merely let a little bit of your brother out. Neltharion is wailing in here, you know. He can't stand to see you in such pain. Poor fellow seems quite unbalanced." Deathwing laughed again.

"You! Deathwing! Begone from my temple! I will not ask again." Her eyes had begun to glow, brighter than before.

"Sister, sister, sister...you know you can't hurt me here. You may be the Queen of Dragons, but you are not the guardian of this temple."

"Try me. I dare you." She almost seemed to glow with the ancient wyrm's power. Deathwing could feel it radiating from her being. The ancient, NEUTRAL, wyrm had sided with the Life-Binder, then. This world had been theirs once. Dragons. No foul mortals to profane it. He realized he was backing away in the face of her, no Galakrond's, power.

She was no longer Alexstrasza, but the ancient father of all dragons. Not even the Aspect of Death would stand a chance against her now. He noticed Krasus was standing there gaping. Stupid little red. Deathwing sneered.

"Would you slay me then, little sister? Or, should I say, Galakrond? If it is indeed you giving the power to my sister. Dragonkind once ruled this world. Without mortals. Remember, great wyrm. Remember our ancient power. It was from you that we were created! From you that the might of the dragon came!" Deathwing was grasping at straws, trying to stall the advancing form of his sister.

When she spoke next, it was her voice, and not her voice. A mixture of his sister's voice and a power so ancient that it was possible it even predated the Titans, their creators. "BE GONE FROM THIS HOLY PLACE, WORLD-BREAKER!" A deafening thunderclap sent Deathwing to his knees, and he knew no more.

Neltharion was gasping for breath. What...what had happened here? He remembered Deathwing, threatening his sister, something about their ancient father, and then..here he was, on the floor of the temple, his sister standing above him, eyes blazing with ancient power. The great wyrm's spirit...possessing Alexstrasza. Of course. Galakrond was more powerful than even Deathwing. When she had told him to be gone, Deathwing had fled, behind his own mental barriers that he had erected to keep Neltharion in check.

"I...sister...what is this? It is I, your brother, Neltharion! Believe me, sister!" Alexstrasza stopped her advancement toward him, seemingly sensing that it WAS her brother and not Deathwing inside the metal shell. The power left her body, seemingly feeling no more threat to his greatest of children. The Life-Binder stepped back.

"No...no. You can't be. You are not Neltharion. You are Deathwing, the Destroyer! You..you are just pretending! Neltharion is dead! Go away! Go away and leave me alone! I will have your head on a pike in the end, Dark One, but today is not that day, nor is this the place." Tears were streaming down her pale face as she said this.

She desperately wished that it really WAS Neltharion that knelt before her, but it wasn't. It was Deathwing, acting as her brother. Those hideous metal plates engulfing his once-handsome face...it could NOT be her brother. And yet, even as she spoke...she sensed that air of familiarity, of closeness...a bond she hadn't felt since Neltharion had become Deathwing.

"No...please no. Titans, no. Do not do this to me. My brother lives, but is trapped within the shell that is known as Deathwing? It cannot be true. All this time...all this time and he could have been freed? Redeemed? Why was I not told? Titans! Mother! Answer me! I plead with you!" Alexstrasza received no answer. The Titans were gone. Long gone, and had been for a very long time. Alex dropped to her knees and wrapped her brother in a tight, nearly rib-cracking hug, ignoring the nicks that sharp metal plates left on her arms.

"Neltharion...Neltharion my love. I promise. I will find a way to free you. I will redeem you. I won't let you suffer in his mind forever." Neltharion held his sister as tight as she held him. The power of the ancient spirit still seemed to be holding Deathwing at bay, but it wouldn't last forever. The Destroyer would break free, and he would be back in his mind-cage. He only wanted to stay here, in the arms of his beloved sister, forever.

"Alexstrasza...I cannot stay here. Even now, he beats at the walls in my head. He fights to be free. I cannot hold him in check forever. He is more powerful than I. Only the power of this place keeps him from taking me over completely. I have to leave now. Please believe me. I, Neltharion the Earth-Warder, love you, Alexstrasza. Now and always. I am your brother. I will be your brother until the day they kill me. The mortals. I know I can't be redeemed. I can't be freed. There is no body left for me. This body is in tatters. It barely holds my soul as it is. Beloved sister, remember me with love, not hate. That is all I ask." Neltharion shuddered, his body collapsing to the ground.

Alexstrasza wept over the unconscious body of her brother, holding him, willing him to wake and be Neltharion again. Just that mere moment of conversation with her brother hadn't been enough. Not nearly enough. She WOULD free him. She WOULD heal his body. Somehow, she and the mortals would find a way. She had been wrong for one of the first times in her life. Neltharion WAS redeemable.

She was still weeping as Deathwing retook control of his body and fled the temple before Neltharion asserted control again.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note: **Alextrasza and horde/alliance interaction here. Deathwing destroys stuff some more. Neltharion fights to be free and see his beloved sister again. Wild mass guessing with the bronze dragonflight, on my part. I do believe this though._

_Shadow of My Wings_

_Ch 4._

Once Calen had created the portal to Wyrmrest, the companions found the Life Queen in an unusual state. She was on her knees, tears trailing down her cheeks. Her body was just as healed as he'd left it, minus a few nicks on her arms that weren't there before, but they weren't something a healer couldn't get rid of quickly. Or even Alex herself. Calen ran over to his mother.

"Mother! What's happened here? Why are crying? I've brought the mortals you requested...where did those nicks on your arms come from?"

Alexstrasza sighed, wiping the tears from her golden eyes. She was still in her humanoid elf form, and Cal had taken on his elf form as well. Cal embraced his mother. He hated seeing her like this. Any and every encounter with her brother left her a right state.

"He...he was here, Cal. Deathwing. No...Neltharion. My brother. He can be freed. Deathwing, minion of the Old Gods, has him trapped in his own mind. The...protector of this temple freed him for a short time and I was able to have words with him. With the real Neltharion. Not Deathwing. He was my brother, Cal. I couldn't kill him, even as he lay helpless before me!"

The Life Mother sobbed again and rolled into her blankets.

The blood elf paladin ran forward. "Queen of Life! The Light and the Power of the Horde is at your command! We will destroy Deathwing!"

The Dragonqueen shook her head from under the blankets. "I...can't have him killed now. Free him. I want my brother back. I want Neltharion back."

The little blood elf was confused. The worgen priest stepped forward. "I know what it is like to have something inside you that you can't control, that you...hate. I'll do all I can to free Neltharion. But, Dragonqueen, his body, you and I both saw it. Its...demolished! Beyond repair! How will Nelthation exist, live, should we force Deathwing from his body?"

The orc spoke next. "What the alliance pig says is true." She sneered, baring her tusks at the human/worgen, "but not entirely so. Our friends, the goblins, are very good at repairing things. Should we 'free' Neltharion from Deathwing, surely our goblins can repair his body. Or even our shaman or priests."

The Dragonqueen shook her head. "Neltharion's body is beyond repair. I've seen it...felt it. There is no saving my brother. He must...die. Or find a new body. No one would willingly give their body to someone who has been so hated an enemy for so long. His soul is intact. I can feel that much. It is only his body that is the problem. Neltharion will die should his body fall apart when Deathwing is killed."

Alexstrasza went back to crying in her blanket.

The worgen shook his head. "No. I was about to give up and end it all when I became...what I am today. But I didn't. Neltharion won't. If anyone I'll give my body! Human, well, worgen, though it may be!"

A white haired woman who had yet to speak finally spoke up, running to Wanhope's side. "You'll do no such thing! I won't let you! I'll kill you myself before I see someone else in my beloved's...that is...my beloved master's body!"

The worgen turned to the white haired human woman, hugging her lightly. "Zeri...I did come to terms with what I am, its true, but...this is dragonqueen. She is YOUR queen. YOUR mother! Surely you can see that I would truly give up everything to save her brother."

The Dragonqueen sat up from her bed, shaking her head. "It must be a dragon, or a very powerful mortal. You are all powerful, all three of you, but you are not so powerful that you could hold my brother's soul, no matter how much I appreciated your offered." She smiled at Wanhope.

"I can cure you, worgen. I can make the curse go away. I am the Queen of Life. Do you want to be human again?"

Wanhope was aghast. Ysera had been no help at all, but Alex could easily remove his curse? He had no idea what he wanted. He'd come to terms with being what he was and it gave him a longer life, made him faster, stronger, able to see better...would he give up all the benefits to be human again? Zeri was different too, and she couldn't be changed. No, for his Zeri, he would stay an outcast.

"No, Queen of Life. I've...come to terms with being what I am. I'm an outcast, but there are benefits to it." He smiled, but his smile was for Zeri, the beautiful white drake-turned-human.

Alexstrasza nodded, almost as if she knew the answer in advance. "There is a way to save my brother. Come I will show you. I have been thinking on it for some time." She led them to the red dragon sanctuary in wyrmrest. It was overflowing with life. Flowers and plants, animals, water...it was beautiful.

Elsewhere, Deathwing continued his flight through Azeroth, torching here and there, ignoring the happy people who jumped into his flames. Going to Wyrmrest had been a huge mistake. Seeing his sister, and the holy temple...Neltharion had been allowed to break free. Had allowed Alex to see that he could be freed.

Deathwing and his masters, the Old Gods, did not want that. The evil being inside the body once inhabited by Neltharion grinned maliciously. While he hadn't wanted her to find a way to free Neltharion, having that pest out of this body would be a welcome change. His annoying wailings and his even MORE annoying occasional attempts at freedom irritated him. If Neltharion were gone, Deathwing would be free to do what he willed, no Neltharion to get in the way. No FEELINGS!

He assumed human form and trudged into the tavern in Shattrath. He'd not seen Outland before, a whole nother planet, and thought it might be a fun thing to visit that place. Let them see the might of Deathwing the Destroyer! He'd destroyed a few draenei and orc villages on his way to Shattrath but the bartender at the bar in Shattrath didn't know this.

He trudged up to the bar, the plates making loud clanking noises as he walked. They were less painful in human form, but it wasn't his preferred form. He sat at the bar and ordered some dwarf ale, which was the strongest kind available. A woman with golden-bronze hair and similar colored eyes looked at him.

"You're not human." She stated this as a fact. The elf was floating, levitating, a priest Deathwing guessed.

"Anyone is welcome here." Deathwing took his own drink, ignoring the bronze-haired woman.

"You're one of us. You're a dragon. You're...him. The Destroyer." The woman stared at him with her bronze eyes.

Now he knew. Damn. He couldn't even have a small moments peace. She was a bronze dragon, this woman. She smiled at him.

"Don't worry, I won't tell my master you're here. Or anyone else. May I let you in on a secret, Destroyer?" She leaned toward him, staying clear of the sharp metallic plates.

Deathwing snorted. "Whatever, bronze bitch. I have no loyalty to any of you."

The bronze dragon in elf form smiled mischievously, almost evilly. "My master seeks to prevent his own death by manipulating the time stream. The so-called Infinite Dragonflight? They're us. Our leader, our master, Nozdormu the great, has given us so much more power."

She stroked what little she could of Deathwing's hair. "He could give you power...he could lend you the aid of his infinites..." she smiled and kissed him, as best she could.

"These infinites. They travel in time. Could they possibly...go back in time and prevent my sister's existence? Or the existence of the mortals?"

The infinite dragon smiled. Her eyes no longer bronze, but silver-black. "Yes. Easily. Our alliance will prove fruitful."


End file.
